Christmas Hockey
by djenie
Summary: How did Jack spend his time in the year between the original movie and the start of the TV series? Just a brief snippet of an idea for something that might have happened.


**This idea came to me too late to post it before Christmas. But I like it so here it is.**

**xxxx**

Jack O'Neill stared around him at the mass of humanity crowding the giant Mall. The chatter of thousands of voices and the clatter of footsteps on the tile floor was deafening, and even above that was the sound of Christmas music being played over the speaker system.

Jack cringed. Why on earth had he come here? He looked around in confusion. In the four months since that crazy mission through the Stargate (to another _planet_, for cryin' out loud!), and his subsequent retirement from the Air Force, he'd spent nearly all of his time at home—seldom seeing or talking to anyone except the delivery services, or his barber (he couldn't break the habit of a haircut every four weeks). He knew he'd become a bit of a recluse, and also somewhat agoraphobic. And this was definitely not the place for anyone with agoraphobia!

But here he was! In the morning paper, he'd seen a small notice about a special Holiday exhibition hockey game being played this evening between two teams picked from the entire league, which included the Avalanche and the Jets—two of his favorite teams. The league was staging several such games around the Division cities. The game was unadvertised, so when he called, he'd been able to reserve a ticket. The rink was in one of the underground levels of the Mall. The game wasn't scheduled to begin until seven—two hours from now—but he figured coming early was a good idea; it would give him time enough to find his way there. Now he wasn't sure even twenty-four hours would have been enough time!

Last year he had been one of this throng himself...rushing through the last days before Christmas, trying to get things done in time, frustrated, but happy—so very happy to be home with his wife and son. His son—

His eyes closed in pain. Charley...

_He'd bought Charley a remote controlled race car. In fact, he'd bought two of them—one red, one blue—and father and son had sent the cars zooming around the house, making even Sara laugh—until things got out of hand and a crash had resulted in a broken lamp and a cut on Jack's hand when he tried to catch the flying glass. He could still trace the thin scar... _

_It hadn't really been that serious, though. A couple of butterfly bandages, a broom and dustpan, some groveling and cajoling to the wife and mother (she hated the lamp anyway), and soon the two boys were back in business... The fun was more than worth the pain._

Someone jostled against him and he stiffened, trying to step away, and bumped into another body. There were a thousand people between him and the doors he had entered a mere three minutes earlier! He could feel himself freezing up, and his eyes searched frantically for a way out. Escape was cut off!

_One of the first rules when under attack—find a defensible position, get your back to a wall!_ The nearest wall was off to his left, and he began to work his way in that direction, weaving between rushing shoppers, trying to avoid sharp corners of packages, hoping not to be knocked down and stepped on!

It seemed like an eon before he finally reached the safety of the wall, out of the streams of foot traffic. He sighed with relief, leaning back against the concrete. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to breathe slowly, deeply. At last he began to grow calmer, felt the air moving in and out of his lungs. He tried to shut out the sounds of the crowds around him.

Several minutes passed, and his anxiety ebbed. It was only a crowd of Christmas shoppers! Not a threat, not an enemy. He was okay. He opened his eyes cautiously and watched the people streaming past him. Many were smiling and laughing, talking to their companions. Waving and wishing one another 'Merry Christmas!' Jack felt the stiffness leaving his limbs as he began to relax back against the wall.

A faint sound reached his ears. A whimper. It came from below the bustle and roar of the crowd. He heard it again, and he looked down. A small figure was huddled on the floor near his feet. A child, with knees drawn up and head buried in its arms. Another sob reached Jack's ears.

His own discomfort forgotten, Jack slid down the wall to sit beside the small form. "Hey, kiddo," he said, gently, but loud enough to be heard. "What's the matter?"

The child's head came up, and frightened, tear-filled eyes stared at him. Jack saw a boy, maybe six years old, with dark brown hair and large blue eyes. The boy edged away from him, as more tears poured down the pale cheeks.

He made no move toward the boy, just spoke to him in a soothing tone. "It's okay. Lots of people here, huh? Everybody's in a big hurry. Makes me kinda nervous, too." He paused to see if the kid would respond. There was no answer, but the blue eyes studied him warily. "I came here to see a hockey game," Jack went on conversationally. "Do you know about hockey? Guys on skates, chasin' a puck around on the ice? Kind of silly, but it's fun to watch." He paused again, and waited.

After several moments his patience was rewarded. "Mommy says I can't talk to strangers," the kid said, so soft that the words could barely be heard.

"And your Mommy's right," Jack said, keeping his voice quiet and friendly. "You should always be careful around strangers. So let's get to know each other. My name's Jack O'Neill. I was a colonel in the Air Force."

The boy's head came up a little and he studied Jack for a while. "My Dad's in the Air Force," he murmured at last. "Where's your uniform? My Dad has a uniform."

"Well, I don't wear it now. I retired a few months ago. That means I don't work for the Air Force anymore."

Blue eyes narrowed slightly, as the child thought about that. "What work do you do now?"

"I'm sort of on vacation. Until I find something I want to do."

There was another pause, as the boy considered what Jack had said. After a few moments he seemed to relax a little. "I can skate," he said at last.

Jack smiled broadly. "That's great. Yeah. I love to skate. Not on a rink, tho. I like to go out to a lake or pond, where there aren't so many people." He'd had ambitions of playing professional hockey once, but too many broken bones had scotched that dream. "So... what's your name?"

"Michael," the boy whispered.

"Well, hello, Michael. It's nice to meet you. Have you been sitting here very long?"

The boy shrugged, then nodded, tears threatened again and he whispered, "Can't find my mom and dad."

"Did you all come here together?"

Michael nodded again. "They were Christmas shopping."

"What's your last name, Michael?"

"Usher."

"Do you know your dad and mom's names?"

"Steve and Diana."

"Good! That's very good. Would you like me to help you find them?"

Big tears slipped from the boy's eyes again as he nodded vigorously.

With someone else to look after, Jack's anxiety had almost vanished. He reached out and touched Michael's shoulder. "How about we go to the courtesy desk and ask them to page your mom and dad. Does that sound like a good idea?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah." He stretched out his hand toward Jack.

Jack took Michael's hand and stood up slowly, tugging him up at his side. The boy barely came to his belt. "Would you like to ride on my shoulders, Michael? That way you can let me know if you see your parents."

"Okay."

Jack easily lifted Michael up onto his shoulders, and they turned toward the crowded center of the Mall. "Now pay attention," Jack said, as he moved out into the throng. "If you see your mom or dad, let me know."

"Okay, Jack."

They moved slowly through the crowd. Jack was tall enough to see over most of the heads around him, and he kept his eyes busy, looking for a courtesy desk, or some similar sign. It was a while before he spotted what he was looking for; an Information Center. As they approached, a young woman suddenly shrieked and tried to push through the crowd toward them. "Michael!"

"Mommy!" Michael cried, holding out his arms.

Jack grinned, and continued to work his way toward the crying woman. As they met, he reached up and swung the boy down into his mother's arms. A young dark-haired man behind her put his arms around them both and buried his face for a moment into his son's back. When he raised his head, his eyes met Jack's over the heads of his family.

"Thank you!" the man exclaimed, thrusting out his hand.

Jack shook the hand. "Glad to help," he said.

"We were so scared," the woman said, looking up at Jack as she cradled her son against her chest. "We'd separated and I thought he was with Steve..."

"I thought he was with her," the father said. He cleared his throat and blinked away the threat of tears. "I'm Steve Usher. Thank you so much!"

Michael struggled out of his mother's grip and slid to his feet.

"Jack O'Neill," Jack replied. "And it was a pleasure. That's a great kid you've got there. He was very brave." His hand rested for a moment on Michael's head.

"Jack's in the Air Force, too, Daddy!" Michael exclaimed, all of his reticence gone now that he was safe with his parents. "He's a colonel. He's going to a hockey game. He likes to skate. I told him I can skate, too."

"Sir!" Michael's father came to attention. "Lieutenant Steven Usher, sir!"

"Relax, Lieutenant." Jack waved a hand. "I'm retired. No rank here."

"Daddy, can we go to the hockey game?" Michael demanded, ignoring the exchange between his father and Jack.

"Well..." Steve began. "I don't know about that, Mike. We don't have tickets..."

The boy bit his lip in disappointment, and Steve Usher glanced at his wife with a rueful smile. "Di? What do you think?"

Diana held her son's hand tightly and nodded at her husband.

"Well, we could go and see," Steve said to Michael. "Maybe we can get in." He turned to Jack. "Where's the game, sir?"

"It's in the rink on the lower level," he said. "It's a League exhibition game. I guess they're doing several of them around the division. Are you a hockey fan?"

"Yes, sir!" Steve grinned. "I grew up cheering for the Flames!"

"Canadian?" Jack asked.

"My dad was. He moved to Idaho after he married my mom. That's where I was born."

They all went to the game. Steve and Diana were able to get tickets. Jack sat with Michael on his lap. The kid loved it!

One of the teams was wearing Santa costumes and the other side's players were dressed up as Elves. They spun and crashed and did acrobatics on the ice. The spectators were in stitches. Nobody cared who was winning or losing. Ultimately the game was declared a draw, and the players all mingled with the audience, paying special attention to the kids. One of the Elves offered to take Michael out on the ice, and when his parents agreed, he lifted the boy onto his shoulders and skated around the rink. There were quite a few other children enjoying the same kind of attention.

Jack could not help but think how much Charley would have loved this; but as he watched Michael waving excitedly to his folks, he knew that his son would not have begrudged him this experience.

**xxxx**

**Okay, not profound or anything. I sort of wondered how Jack spent that year between the movie and the start of the TV series...**


End file.
